Should Be Loved
by IsidoraAngst
Summary: Mark has been trying to find love. He might have found it in Mike. Will he let the younger man in or just stay alone? AU; slash M/M


******Disclaimer: I do not own anything dealing with WWE or any song lyrics that is used as a muse. I also do not own the rights to any products or persons mentioned in the story as well.******

******A/N: This is for taker's dark lover. I hope she likes it and enjoys it. I hope you all enjoy it as well.  
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**Should Be Loved**

He watched him dance, sandwiched between two men. They ground their hips against his and he threw his head back in ecstasy. The young man's eyes were half-closed, pupils dilated. He licked his lips, the pink muscle teasing and beckoning.

Mark sighed and went back to drinking. He stared into his cup, trying to wash away the image of the younger man away.

"Drinking isn't going to help," Hunter replied as he took the seat next to him.

"What?" Mark asked.

"I said that drinking isn't going to help." Hunter zeroed his hazel eyes onto the dance-floor. "Why don't you go over and talk to him?"

Mark shook his head. "And say what?"

"Ask him out?" Hunter studied his old friend and mentor for a long moment. "The last time I saw you like this was..."

"Don't," Mark replied. "Don't say his name."

Hunter nodded. "So...why the Miz?"

"I don't know."

"So...are you going to sit here all night drowning your sorrows away?"

"Pretty much."

Hunter turned his eyes back to the dance-floor and saw that Mike and Kofi were dancing together. "I'll see ya later."

Mark watched the Game make his way to the dance-floor. Hunter leaned into Kofi and whispered to him. The African smiled and nodded. He waved to Mike and both Hunter and Kofi left. Mark shook his head and went back to drinking.

Everything passed him by. It was just a swirl of bodies and colors. Mark didn't care. All he cared about was the friend and enemy before him. The alcohol numbed him and yet made him feel good. It made him feel something, but was it worthlessness or something more? He couldn't tell.

"Hey, Mark," Mike greeted.

The older man looked to him. "Evening."

"You look so lonely. Why?"

"Just like being alone."

The younger man studied him for awhile. "Sorry for bothering you."

"Wait." Mark turned to look at him. "Why do you do it?"

"What?"

"Why do you dance with random strangers? Do you hope they will take you home? Do you just want to fuck?"

Mike stared at the older man. "It's my life. I do what I want." He got up.

"Wait."

Mike didn't turn around.

Mark watched after him. "Shit."

The bartender wiped down the bar. "That was insensitive of ya."

The older man didn't say anything.

"I suggest you go after him before he gets into trouble."

Mark looked at her.

"Those two guys that he was dancing with just followed him out the door."

"Shit!"

Mark paid his tab, left a tip, and left. He put on his jacket as he hit the door. He scanned the streets looking for where Mike could have went off to. He heard a noise like muffled screaming. He went to it and found Mike, a hand over his mouth, was being dragged to a car.

"Hey!" Mark shouted.

The two men threw Mike to the ground, jumped into the car, and drove away.

Mark got to the young man and looked him over. Mike held onto the older man, face buried into the broad chest.

"Don't let me go," Mike pleaded.

"I'm not," Mark said. "I've got you."

…

Mark watched as Mike slept in his hotel bed. He urged to reach out and caress him, hold him, love him, but Mark was afraid. He was afraid to love, afraid to be broken again.

"Mark," Mike called.

"Yes?"

"Where are you?"

Mark moved from his seat in the chair and to the edge of the bed.

Mike stared up at him. "Do you like me?"

"What?"

"Do you like me?"

Mark wiped his mouth. "What if I do?"

"If you did, would you tell me?"

"I don't know."

"Are you afraid?"

"I would be lying if I said no."

Mike bit his lower lip. "I like you."

"What?"

"I said...that I like you." Mike sat up.

The older man rubbed his hands together.

"I was afraid to tell you. I was hoping that you would notice me. I changed my ring attire, I dance with random men...hoping you would look my way." Mike sighed. "Tonight...I almost got..."

"Why do you like me?" Mark asked.

"To me...you're everything I want in a person."

Mark chuckled.

"Mark?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not like Jeff. I won't hurt you."

"Please don't."

"You're not like Batista."

The older man looked to Mike.

"He never hit. He just degraded me. Said that I was worthless. Why do you think that I tried to hard to get to where I am now?"

The Deadman nodded.

"I want to love you if you let me."

Mark turned stared into those hypnotic blues.

Mike leaned forward and brushed his lips against Mark's. He deepened the kiss but got no response. He pulled away.

"Sorry," Mike said. "I should get going."

"No," Mark replied. "Stay here...with me."

Mike nodded.

"Lay back down."

The younger man did so. "Will you lay with me?"

The Deadman stood up and took off his jacket. He undressed down to his boxers and crawled in. Mike laid his head on Mark's broad chest.

"I'll let you love me," Mark began, "if you let me love you."

Mike stared up at him and smiled.

**~The End~**


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